Anthony's Boobs
by usernamesarecool
Summary: Smosh: Ian/Anthony. Ian can't stop staring at Anthony's boobs. CRACKFIC. Based on the "My Magical Tapeworm!" video. WATCH IT BEFORE YOU READ THIS.


"So," Anthony said, looking through the script that Ian had written a few days ago, "I think we should shorten this a little. The way it's written right now, it'll probably be over ten minutes. What do you think?"

There was no response.

"Ian?"

Still nothing. He looked over at his best friend. Ian was staring at his chest with his mouth slightly open and his eyes unfocused.

"Ian!" Anthony shouted.

Ian jumped. "What?"

"Stop staring," Anthony said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Ian replied, shrugging. "It's hard not to. I mean, you have _boobs_, dude."

Anthony blushed furiously. "I'm saving up to get them removed, okay? If it wasn't for you and your stupid magical tapeworm…" He trailed off as he noticed Ian's eyes lingering on his chest again. He crossed his arms tightly, hiding his breasts from view.

"Sorry," Ian said again automatically. It seemed like every other word out of his mouth in the past few days had been "sorry". Ever since the stupid things had appeared on Anthony's chest.

"I can't deal with this," Anthony said, groaning. He turned off the computer and stomped out to the living room, flopping face-down on the couch. The impact hurt his breasts a little bit, and he sighed. Stupid fucking tapeworm…

He was glad it was gone now. If it had decided to use one of its magic burps on him again, he could have end up with something a lot worse than a pair of boobs. Sighing, he sat up and grabbed the remote, flicking the TV on.

Ian wandered in a few minutes later and sat down next to him.

"Hey, man. I'm sorry I kept staring at your boobs."

"It's fine," Anthony muttered. "But don't call them that, okay?"

"Call them what?"

"Don't call them 'my boobs'. They're not _mine_. They're just… they're just some random boobs that appeared on my chest after a magical tapeworm burped in my direction, okay?"

"Okay, okay, sorry," Ian said, holding his hands up apologetically. "Let's just watch TV, okay? We won't talk about your… uh, about _those_ boobs anymore."

Anthony nodded. "Yeah, okay." He smiled for the first time in days. "Thanks, man."

"No problem."

However, only about ten minutes passed before he could feel Ian's eyes on him.

"Ian," he said pointedly, not looking away from the TV. "You're staring again, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry!" Ian said, groaning. "I can't help it!"

Anthony let out a frustrated sigh. "They're just boobs, Ian!"

"I know," Ian replied softly. He hesitated. "Anthony?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I… see them?"

Anthony turned to stare at him. "What?"

"You know. Without the shirt."

"No!" Anthony cried, shaking his head furiously.

"Why?"

"Because you're my best friend! I'm not showing you my boobs. That's just… weird."

"I thought they weren't 'your' boobs," Ian replied, smirking.

"They're not."

"Then what's the big deal?" Ian grinned. "Come on, please?"

Anthony sighed, defeated. Better to just let Ian have his way than to admit that he felt some kind of ownership for the stupid things. He rolled his eyes and pulled up his shirt.

"No bra?" Ian asked.

"No, dude. I'm not wearing a fucking bra. That's weird."

Ian licked his lips. "The boobs look… nice."

"That's not something I want to hear."

"Sorry."

"Whatever. Can I pull my shirt back down now?"

Ian ignored him. "Can I touch them?" he blurted out.

"What the _fuck_, dude? No!"

"Have you touched them?"

Anthony blushed. "Well, yeah." In fact, he'd spend nearly half an hour in front of the mirror the day it had happened, squeezing and rubbing his new breasts experimentally.

"Cause you were curious, right?" Ian urged.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Well, I'm curious too! I've never touched a guy's boobs before."

"That's because guys don't usually have boobs," Anthony said through gritted teeth.

"Exactly, so I'll never get another chance to do this. Please, dude, just let me touch them."

"Fine, whatever. Just be gentle."

"I know how to handle boobs," Ian shot back. "I'm not a virgin."

"Which is a miracle," Anthony muttered under his breath. He leaned back against the couch, sticking his chest out a little. Ian tentatively reached out and cupped his breasts. Anthony gasped a little; it felt so weird to have someone else touch them.

"They feel nice," Ian said, giggling a little. He squeezed gently. "They feel really nice," he murmured.

Before Anthony could protest, Ian moved to straddle his thighs, putting himself nearly face-to-face with Anthony.

"What the fuck?" Anthony said. This was just getting weirder and weirder; Ian was sitting _on his lap_, for fuck's sake.

"Easier to grab them," Ian said softly. He squeezed Anthony's breasts again, running his thumbs over the nipples. Anthony bit his lip. It felt… kind of nice. Ian's hands were warm and rough against the sensitive skin.

"Can you stop?" he asked, but Ian ignored him. He was fully absorbed in playing with Anthony's boobs, squeezing and rubbing and stroking. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and –

"Dude, what the fuck?" Anthony whispered as he felt something hard press against his hip. "Are you…?" A glance downward confirmed it: Ian had an erection.

"Stop it, Ian," Anthony said breathlessly. Ian wasn't listening; he just kept caressing Anthony's breasts. Their faces were getting closer and closer together. Anthony let out a small moan as Ian ran his thumbs over his nipples again, and then he did something he'd never expected to do.

He kissed Ian.

He didn't mean to do it. He was half convinced that he hadn't actually kissed him, that their lips had just bumped accidentally, but he couldn't explain the way that his tongue had flicked out to lick at Ian's bottom lip.

Ian's eyes flew open, and he nearly fell off the couch in his hurry to get off of Anthony's lap.

"What the fuck was that?" he gasped. "Did you just kiss me?"

Anthony could feel himself blushing. "I… uh… maybe?"

"Are you _gay_?"

Anthony stared at him. "What the hell? You just had a boner from fondling me, and _I'm_ the gay one?"

"You _kissed_ me," Ian repeated, an expression of vague horror on his face. "That's just… ugh." He shuddered. "Get those things removed as soon as possible, okay?"

"Like I wasn't already planning to," Anthony muttered, pulling his shirt back down and crossing his arms tightly.

He was never going to forgive that damn tapeworm.


End file.
